Snobbery

I’ve irritated some people in my life. Especially those who are arrogant or irritating about the culinary world we experience subjectively. Pineapple on pizza. Ketchup on steak. How meat should be cooked. Whether painted-on eyebrows look strange. I grew up listening to my Mom say, “You don’t know what’s good.” She could eat some things that the vultures would shriek and fly away from. My Dad forced me to eat some nasty stuff; I can laugh about it now. But a part of me laughs and rejoices because I now know he was among the worst to fail to appreciate all the kinds of foods in the world.

There is no right and wrong regarding what you eat or what you like. It doesn’t work that way. And, of course, everyone knows this. For some, the idea of eating fish eggs or oysters, aka snotshells, is as repulsive as watching a 6-year-old pick his nose and then salt and pepper it.

Whether you like your steak bleeding or burned to a crisp, it lies with each person to decide what they like. I watch people argue and criticize what other people eat. The ones criticizing tend to eat some of the most outlandish and nasty stuff on the planet. My brother Mike liked to dip. He’d mock people’s food choices relentlessly. He didn’t take it kindly when I pointed out that it looked like he had let a raccoon poop inside his lip.

If you want to put chocolate pudding on prime rib, fire away.

If you like fresh jalapeños on vanilla ice cream, pile them on there.

And if you like head cheese or liver and onions, I will gladly watch you smile and burp appreciatively as you consume it. Don’t get me started on raw celery, aka The Devil’s Anus.

But if I’m eating burned popcorn or a steak so well done that the fire department is about to come in and you make snide remarks… you’re going to find head cheese or pineapple pizza under your pillow later that night.

Everything about what we like and dislike is subjective.

There are no rules.

We can’t even agree that ties are a stupid anachronism that should be discarded. Or that shrimp are the cockroaches of the sea. But we can mock someone eating fried bologna as we gleefully munch on foie gras as if our choice is superior to theirs.

If you like to eat literal cockroaches, you’re in luck. In my world, I’m going to be fascinated by anything that I consider unusual. But I’m also going to bite my tongue because I embrace the difference in taste that we all experience.

I’m judging you if you judge others for what they put in their mouth. You better check your pillow if I hear you doing it.

It is the lowest form of mockery to mock or attempt to humiliate someone for what they eat or how they enjoy eating it. This is doubly true if you do so in front of other people while they are doing it. I don’t tell you that your pants make you look like one of the mentioned symptoms in a WebMD article; the least you can do is bite your tongue.

“Hunger does not need a cookbook.” – X

“In matters culinary, there is no greater arrogance than objecting to what someone chooses to eat or how they season it, sauce it, or flavor it. I’ve yet to meet anyone who isn’t an idiot with their food, and the feeling is undoubtedly reciprocal.” – X

Love, X
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